The tales of Malaz, book 1
by RoyalJack
Summary: This is an AU take on the malazan book of the fallen. It takes place a good 500 years before the events of the first book. It's rated T for language, nudity and most of all; brutality. This is going to be a really bloodthirsty story. I won't spoil anything about the story. I hope you'll have fun reading
1. chapter 1

Most of the characters as well as some of the places are owned by Steven Erikson, the author of the malazan book of the fallen.

 **G'day lads and welcome to a new story of mine. For those of you who don't know me yet, I'm not surprised since I'm a nobody xD. But seriously welcome to a new story of mine. I'm honestly soo excited to write this! So I wont talk as much and just get into writing, I hope you'll like it.**

 **Edit: Just found out I have to actually base this on a fiction and am not allowed to write my own story :X. Anyways it's still going to be fun. Now it's an AU of the malazan book of the fallen with some different kingdoms, places and a lot of other changes. (Completely different storyline) and set good 500 years before the first book took place.**

It was a normal day in Rha'shakair, the central harbor of Shakair, a small desert kingdom south of the Raraku desert.

It was also the biggest nest of criminals, thugs, mercenaries and pirates. Basically the perfect place for a man who doesn't want to be found. This is where our story begins...

Trager was sitting in a pub drinking a cheap ale. He had dark blue eyes, a black beard and long hair tied to a man bun. His arms, chest and legs were covered in ancient warrior tattoos and scarred from countless battles. He also had three long scars over his right eye, a little souvenir he got out of fight with a manticore. He wore a a light armor made from linen and leather. The only heavy piece of armor he wore was a steel shoulder pauldron on his right shoulder and a steel greave on his left leg. (Authors note: It's basically knee armor but greave sounds better. Amd yes, all of that information is important)

He also had an unusual fighting styl for a mercenary, he fought with two longswords. He wore his swords on his sides and on his back rested a generic longbow with arrows. Next to him there were his two companions Akela and Raksha (authors note: don't judge me I know these are the wolves from the jungle book but I love these names way too much \•-•/)

They were a rare breed of northern wolves that grow the size of bears.

Since Akela and Raksha were still pups they were only about the size of normal wolves. (At this point in our story)

"Tak, next round!" He yelled over the bar counter at the shaggy looking barkeeper.

Just as the barkeeper was about to hand him the drink. A tall man sat next to him. He was wearing the red and black leather armor of one of the pirate clans.

He reached out and grabbed Tragers drink.

"Would you fucking mind?" Trager looked him straight into his eyes, "I was drinking that."

"Oh, were you now? It's not my fucking problem is it? Now fuck off." The pirate took a sip.

"Stupid pig-fucker" Trager mumbled.

"What was that?" The Pirate turned around.

"I said 'stupid pig-fucker' or are those too many words for you?" Trager taunted him.

"Oh you'll regret this for sure." He stood up.

In a split second he tried to reach his dagger but he was to slow.

There was a loud _Krunch_ as Tragers longsword rammed through the light leather armor of the Pirate and broke on its way to the other side of his body several ribs and his spine.

"Yo-you..." he couldn't finish his sentence as he collapsed on the floor while vomiting up his own blood. He twitched for a few seconds and suddenly there was no movement at all. The man drowned in his own blood.

Suddenly everyone stopped drinking and cheering. They all looked at the mercenary and his bloody blade.

"Keep celebrating!" Every applauded him and laughed.

"Trager, what the fuck? Do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out of wood?" Tak was not amused at all.

"Well, what can I say? It's another normal day in Shakair."

"God fucking dammit... Brother get the bucket! There's blood on the floor!" Tak yelled into the basement downstairs.

 **A few hours later at the market**

Ah the market, the place where dreams come true. That is if your dreaming of robbery and drug deal.

Trager looked around him. He knew that the market was usually a bad place but ever since the trakish kingdom took over Shakair and the holy desert itself. That was the day the proud and slightly criminal society of Shakair was forced into a tyranny.

Their king, Rorik the brutal was a cold blooded psychopath, he threw his own son out of a window after he lost a battle.

"Pathetic", a Trakish soldier kicked an old beggar in his side for lying in his way. A monk in desert colored robes tried to step in.

"Please sire, have mercy! He is only- _gah!_ " The knight smashed him down with one hit of his iron gauntlet. "Shut the fuck up sand prayer!" The monk was laying on the ground uncautious.

"Wow, beating up monks I see. You might just be one of the biggest cowards I've ever seen." Trager knew what was going to happen next.

He dodged the first and second swing of the soldier and hit him with one of his brass knuckles on the weak spot of the trakish armor, the neck.

The knight couldn't sound a word as he broke down trying not to suffocate.

"You... fucker..." he sounded out, breathing in sharp inhales.

"Are you ok?" He helped the monk up and checked him for any kind of brain trauma through the hit.

He was about 80 years old.

 _Who hits an 80 years old monk? I'm no angel but that's low, even for me,_ Trager thought.

"Yes, thank you. These 'knights' have no honor but I'm glad to see _someone_ who's trying to help." He looked at Trager. Just now the mercenary realized that the old man was blind.

"The monks are the only reason why I'm still alive so I thought I'd repay that debt right here." He answered. He was an orphan, left on the steps of the monastery. A place that he left behind a long time ago.

"May the gods bless you, child."

 **Afternoon, the golden drop**

Saying that the golden drop was a bad brothel was like saying that a dirty lake in the desert is _bad,_ it's not a lie but it's certainly better than anything else around.

"Are you here for fun?" A woman in a short white linen dress asked. Because of the dark tone of her skin, the lack of underwear and the thinnes of the linen, her dress was pretty 'transparent'.

"As much as I'd love to, not today Qunai, I'm here to see Argayus."

Her smile dropped. "Oh, well that's unfortunate I would've loved to spend some time with you."

He smiled slyly, "So, where's that slimy prick?"

Argayus was an absolute asshole. I would've said it nicer but that _is_ the nice version already. He was also one of Tragers closest friends. He owned the golden drop. Most of the mercenaries in Rha'shakair get their jobs of some middleman like him.

"Ah Trager my dear friend." The fat man was wrapped in his purple and gold robe while nipping on a gem decorated golden goblet filled with wine.

"Argayus, you walking slimeball do you have a job for me?" Trager was not one for talking around a certain subject.

"Straight to business then. I do have a job for you. A kidnapping job, are you interested?"

"Kidnapping? I'm not doing those jobs you know that." Trager thought this would be the end of their conversation.

"5'000 gold dragmas." Argayus slammed a big sack of gold coins on the table.

"Seven hells, I'm in. So, a kidnapping. Who? And more importantly what am I going to do with said person after I captured her. Assasinate, take hostage? " Trager felt bad but that was just way to much gold.

"No no no! Nothing like that! Bring. Her. Here. And I'll pay you."

"I get half of it now and the other half after it's done." Trager tried to negotiate.

"No you don't."

"A quarter"

"Nope"

"I fucking hate you."

"Bye Trager have fun and remember whoever it is, don't hurt him/her." The Pimp yelled after the marching mercenary.

"I don't think he's the right man for the job." Qunai walked in behind Argayus.

"First of all, you're just saying this because he's your favorite customer and you don't want to lose him. Second of all, I am certain thet he **is** the right man _for the job_ " A diabolic smile appeared on his lips.

 **My god this is fun to write. And yes, I want this to be an actual big series. Next time you'll meet the second main character. This might not be something for a lot of people but it's certainly fun for me. If you have any suggestions, questions, wishes I'm glad to read them in the review section and I'll try answer them all. By the time this is going to be uploaded I'm already going to be off writing chapter two.**

 **Till next time my friends, bye!**


	2. Chapter 2 Princess Akira

**G'day lads and welcome back to another chapter of my little story. Last time you met our first main character, the mercenary Trager and this time you'll meet number 2, the young princess Akira. I really like writing on this story because I don't have to break it diwn by holding up the K standards. So without anymore gushing and complaining let's get started with this new chapter.**

 **Breakfast in Cloudreach castle.**

Akira was sitting on the long table on the balcony of Cloudreach castle. She was rather young, about 20 years old, had long brown hair and green eyes. Just like everyone else in her family. On the chair next to her sat her older brother Tillian and on the other end of the table Akiras father, lord Tachius.

"Brother, are you going to hunt today?" She asked him, trying to get some conversation out of him.

"Wha- yes. I'll go on a boar hunt." He answered.

"I'm afraid you're not going anywhere son, the Kings brother is visiting us." Her father got up.

"It's essential for our survival that we mae a goid impression. I just hope Ragvar is more reasonable than his brother."

"I heard he's even crazier than the king himself! You're welcoming him into our home?" Tillian raised his voice.

"Watch your tongue! Even though I'm the lord doesn't mean I have unlimited power. He's going to arrive this afternoon. Both of you are going to be at my side in the throne room and you WILL behave."

 **Later that afternoon**

Ragvar was going to arrive at any given point by now. The lord was sitting on his throne while his twi children were standing left and right of him.

The door opened and a garrison of trakish soldiers marched in. At their lead, Ragvar himself.

"Sir Ragvar. It's pleasant to see you arrived in a good condition." Tachius tried to stay calm.

"Fuck the formalities. You know why I'm here old man!" He walked up to thefirst step of the stairs to the throne.

"How dare you! You're talking to the lorn of Cloudreach! Show some respect." Tillian stood up a walked up on the trakish warmonger.

"Someone with some backbone! What a surprise in a place as _pathetic_ as thos ruin."

"This 'ruin' is our home! Or do you want to prove me otherwise?" His hand layed on the grip of his sword.

"Tillian! Back off now!" The father ordered.

"Oh no need, your son gave out his honest opinion. That shows courage." Tillian turned around. Just fast enough to see the dagger that sliced his throat open. "But I don't _need_ someone courageous." The young prince fell on his knees, coloring the white carpet red.

"NO! What have you done you monster?" The lird got up and grabbed his greatsword.

"Soldiers, arrest this man. And as for you, young princess, you would make a great wife for the kings son, prince Zarus." He lifted her chin with his index finger.

"Never!"

"How cute! She thinks it's hers to decide! You five! Bring her to Dragonfang. Take my carriage. You won't rest until you arrive. Do you understand!"

The soldiers salute "Sir yes Sir!

 **Well well well this is in fact really short, I know but I wanted to put the next part of my story in its own chapter so I could build it if however the fuck I want. The young princess is in big trouble. I hooe you enjoyed it.**

 **Till next time, bye!**


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